


The Chariot

by boticelli



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Circle Mages, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boticelli/pseuds/boticelli
Summary: At the height of 2004, Juno Black finds herself wishing she was anywhere else in the world rather than her dead-end life. A dreamer with a penchant for impulsive decisions, she's suddenly removed from her world and placed into another by forces she had no clue ever existed and learns the first of many truths about her:Her entire life is a lie.__
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The Chariot

No no no no no, this couldn't be happening. 

"Shit!" 

Juno shoved the keys into ignition again, sputter, half a turn, a slammed palm against the horn, no dice. No fucking dice. 

In the distance, she could hear dogs from other apartments barking at the sound of her horn, a couple walking in the cool morning raising a brow at her cursing at her old car, kicking the door shut as she pulled herself out the cab. Just what she needed, more proof to her neighbors that she was batshit crazy. At least this time she had a reason for yelling at an inanimate object. 

She looked at her watch. Five til eight. In a car, she'd make it to work in two minutes tops, but now? Her husband an hour out in another town and no friends to come to her rescue? Crippled by the lack of transportation and the freezing cold air that rustled through the trees and sent the last of the snow flying around like a dust devil? She'd be an hour late at least, but at least she could explain herself and hopefully _hopefully_ still get her holiday pay. 

If she was lucky. 

She'd probably find some other way to lose it before the day was done, always did.

This was the hell she'd brought upon herself, she figured. Juno had always been quite a procrastinator, putting off housework, working on her car, and now, putting off her walk to work, instead lighting a cigarette now that she had time to walk the smell of tobacco and smoke off her before she came home that night. 

She'd promised her husband that she would quit. Guess who couldn't even be bothered to do that? 

Juno had doomed herself to a life of mediocrity floating from call center to call center ten years ago when eighteen-year-old her had decided to become an artist and follow her dreams instead of thinking about bills, healthcare, and stability. Some days she regretted it, like today, but other days she didn't. Every fucking thing depended on her mood. But would things really be better if she did what she wanted to do? 

_Life is toil_ , her husband had reminded her multiple times. Harsh advice for anyone who didn't know the guy, but it was his way of telling her to keep working hard. 

A ping from her phone as she rounded the corner out of the apartment complex: 

_Husband: made it to work, love you. Don't forget to take your mesfs._

_Husband: Mdgbs_

_Husband: M E D S_

She chuckled, quickly jotting down a response. He'd still not gotten used to the 10-key and it amused her to no end: 

_Me: mesfs._

_Me: Love you. Won't forget, talk to you at lunch._

And another thing she'd dropped the ball on, her medication. Typical Juno. Whatever, she had a backup at work, she'd be fine once she got there. If she ever got there. 

Pulling her coat tight, she hurried underneath the interstate overpass, trying her best not to breathe in the fumes from the cars waiting to turn lest she begin her day with an even bigger headache. That'd be the least of her worries, though. 

Against her better judgement, Juno ducked off the sidewalk and into the wooded ditches between the neighborhoods and the business park. Surely a shortcut she'd taken hundreds of times with her neighbor's dogs wouldn't be a big problem for her directionally challenged self. 

There are probably hundreds of stories that start this way: girl is unhappy with regular life, girl goes about her usual day, girl gets swept up into some adventure and realizes that home was always the best place to be. A real Wizard of Oz type shit, just without the weird little people who gorged on drugs behind the scenes and did unspeakable things to Judy Garland. While that all appealed to somebody like Juno, she’d stopped fantasizing about being swept away years ago; with work and a husband and wanting to have a family getting in the way, everything she used to occupy her time with were slowly replaced by more real things. 

And don’t get her wrong, she _loved_ her little life. It was just… dull. 

But everyone said that about their own lives, she was just another broken record. 

There was comfort in stereotypes, right? They existed for a reason. Juno longed for a life of adventure, but it just wasn't practical. She was fine keeping her head in the clouds and silently pretending that she'd be swept away into adventure. 

That's how things like this always started, right?

Except, she'd expected less gum stuck to her shoes and fewer junkies trying to hustle her, and instead of just walking to work, she'd walk into some sort of portal of some sort, taking her to a different world like Ash Williams and his Boom-Stick. 

Well, maybe with less blood and fewer demons. 

God, she had to get into some different sort of movies. Fuck, her rental returns. Blockbuster was going to kick her ass. 

A wind picked up, which wasn't unusual, but with it came an odd, wooded sort of smell: as if she wasn't surrounded by the dregs of society and sewage runoff. Odd, but not odd enough. 

No, there were no portals, nothing super spectacular of any sort. One minute she was kicking a can of soda away from her and then the next minute she just;

closed her eyes and heard a voice. 

_"It's time for you to come home, girl."_

And suddenly, she wasn't anywhere anymore. 

_"You've been gone for so long."_

She felt eyes on her, hundreds of them as she tried to blink herself into existence again, "H-h." Juno tried to talk, but the air weighed so heavy on her that she couldn't seem to utter a sound. 

_"Your mother has missed you very much, but it's time to come home. Seasons are changing and there is danger on the horizon. She'll need you soon."_

Her mother? What did they mean by that? She had a mother that had died ages ago. Was this a joke? 

Her heart pounding in her chest, she closed her eyes again, hoping it'd bring her back to reality, but when she opened them again, she found herself in a desolate space— the air thick with petrichor and mold, as if she were in a damp basement, an almost green fog hanging around her. 

And a shadow with thousands of eyes, all staring at her, smoky tendrils extending from its shape. 

"Where am I?" She finally was able to ask, though it felt as if she were underwater. Juno's hand extended, as if it had a mind of its own, and tried to touch the figure before her, but like passing her hand through fog, it was an intangible being. 

"You are home." It replied in a voice that was neither man nor woman, "this is where dreams physically manifest themselves, the Fade, as some people call it." A tendril reached out to her chin and lifted it up, "who knew you'd grow to be so tall? You'll stick out like a sore thumb, dear girl." 

Juno swatted whatever it was away from her, but it kept a firm grip on her, examining her with as much care as a biologist would a specimen. "My home is not here," she assured the creature, "my mother was a junkie named Yvvone who died of an overdose when I was fourteen. I don't know what the fuck I'm tripping on but I want to be done with this." 

And the creature just laughed at her. 

"Maybe some memories will help," it whispered in a sing-song tone as it started to envelop her as if it were cigarette smoke surrounding her like a shroud. 

"No!" 

And then she saw it: 

A child stuck in a tower, a famine, creatures sent from what looked like hell itself— sisters dressed in scarlet and knights in armor. The names were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't try to find the words in her mind. Her memories from her current life fighting memories of a life she was forced to forget. Memories of a childhood that'd been planted in her mind dancing alongside these new memories of a childhood she thought she'd never had. 

A Circle. 

A city where stone statues weep. 

Her tiny hand clutching the hand of an older Knight. 

A…

What was it called? 

Templar? 

There it was. 

But her memory wasn't completely there. 

And when she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the sleeping body of a man, chestnut hair wild and crawling all over the stones like ivy rampant in a garden. 

And a final instruction:

_"Wake him up."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!
> 
> I've been wanting to write a modern character in Thedas fic for awhile, but I wanted to kind of play around with the trope. To pay homage to me, a kid stuck in the late 90s, have Juno, an adult who is stuck in the late 90s and (still hasn't gotten over Kurt Cobain's death tbh) 
> 
> This is set initially in 2004, before any games existed and before Dragon Age was even really a thing. She has no clue what she's getting into and while she has some idea of what is going on, ultimately Juno will struggle with trying to merge both her memories together. 
> 
> Enjoy and as always, leave me a comment to let me know how I'm doing!
> 
> \- Wil


End file.
